Lucille's Run Off
by Well of Allsparks
Summary: Franœur's POV. Not long after the events of the movie, just before tonight's show, Lucille disappears. Leaving nothing more than a note, which is frustratingly ambiguous, everyone is in a panic to find her. But while everyone else is busy searching for clues and asking each other, one loyal, giant flea is going to find her. Platonic FranœurxLucille, but you can read it as romantic.


I was only mildly satisfied with the stories here for Un Monstre a Paris. I love that movie so much, you don't even know. Absolutely in love with this movie, and I own both versions of the soundtrack. But one thing that I do particularly love about that movie is one that I didn't find any story really focus on or, to be honest, even take into consideration. I love Franœur and Lucille's relationship; the singing and the dancing. Franœur is a giant flea that loves to dance and sing, specifically with Lucille. During that first song together, La Siene, he was vibrating. He couldn't resist himself, he HAD to go down an dance/sing with her. To be honest, I don't think there's anything more on his mind than going on that stage with her, and that's adorable.

Well, I don't own Un Monstre a Paris. I don't own the music, the characters, or any of the above. But I just freaking love it. Please enjoy this story.

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Sitting patiently on the love seat, I watched as they all flew around the room as if there were enough space for it. It's as if they didn't even noticed that they would brush past at least two other bodies on their way to their destination, before quickly turning and picking out a new destination on the opposite side of the room. I chirped lightly, to point this out, but they were too caught up in their rush to even noticed, not that I minded. I just sat back and continued to watch curiously. The room is a small one, as I've learned, but it usually fits three or four inhabitance fairly well if they aren't all in such a rush. Even as I humored this, Emile stumbled outwards into the wall as Roul tripped over the shorter man. I leaned over automatically, reaching out only slightly when he caught himself on the small table there. I twittered cautiously, hoping my friend hadn't gotten hurt. With such a packed room and everyone so worked up, someone's bound to get hurt. That's why I should just stay here sitting, since I'm so much larger than them.

"I'm fine, Franœur." Emile straightened his hat, barely glancing at me. That was the first time any of them had paid me any attention for the past several minutes, so I chirped in delight and sat back up straight. He was already pushing back into the throng, a paper grasped in his hand that I hadn't noticed at first.

Now, I decided to follow him with my attention, twisting my head and bobbing to try and get a good look at the paper he held. His is the first face etched into my memory, the first human face I had the capacity to recognize and the first human face I had known to scream in fear at me. Of course, that was long ago and now he is one of my friends. He would never scream at me like that again, and the thought of the friendly smile he gives me now made me purr in happiness, looking between the paper I was still trying to get a look at and his anxious face.

I have seen Emile scared when we first met, and I've seen him frustrated when Roul teases him. I've seen him flustered when Maud is close, and I've seen him happy all the other times. I've even seen that strange, content-proud face he makes when he plays a movie for us at his theatre. But I can't really place his expression now. He was looking around, bobbing between the others that were moving around just as anxiously, talking in an anxious voice, but his face was... not scared. Not frustrated or flustered either, but somewhere between all three.

Eventually, I gave up on trying to see the paper and turned my attention to watch the others' expressions. They all had that look, or at least their versions of it. I've watched my friends closely and loyally, coming to know them well. Therefore, I can tell that they are all nervous and frustrated. I can only infer that the others that are here, none of whom I knew as well but I have seen around, were in similar states.

The only one I didn't understand really was Lucille's. Hers is the face I can read the best; hers is the body language I read the best. I watch her and dance with her so much, I hope to call her my closest friend. She is my favorite, at least. If I can claim Emile, Raul, and Maud as my friends because I know their face-languages, then I think I can claim Lucille as my closest friend because I know her body-language the best. It's she who I always want to please before the others- which occasionally contradicts each other -and so it is her face that I want to see the most in this throng. I don't know the expressions that all of these friends have, and I don't know what's going on. But if I could just read Lucille's face, I would understand. Surely I would know exactly what's happening, even without her talking to me. For if she were here, she wouldn't ignore me like all the others; she'd take the time to look at me and realize I have no idea what they're doing, and she'd explain it to me. She always does.

So what confuses me about it is, why isn't she here? Why isn't her face-expressions here, even though this is our room? This is our dressing room, and yet all these other people are here without her presence.

I chirped sadly, looking between them all again. Perhaps she is here, but only lost in the throng? This is the forth time I've thought this and tried to sniff her out, and every time I reach the same conclusion; that she isn't here. I smell her perfume clinging to the entire room, but it's flattened and vague because of everyone else here. Why are they all here? Why are they touching all of her things? Where is Lucille?

I twittered again, ducking my head and watching them all with increasing apprehension. I want to stand up and draw their attention, so someone would tell me what's happening. Or maybe make my way the two strides it takes to leave the room from here, but I'm trapped here on the love seat. It's crowded enough already, I would only make things worse. Putting myself in there would only endanger my friends' safety and disrupt whatever it is they're doing.

"Franœur. Franœur!" Someone was trying to get my attention. I shook my head, snapping out of it. I had gotten distracted as I looked towards the open dressing room door longingly. But it's Roul, waving a hand in my face. I chirped in acknowledgement, briefly apologizing for the lapse. "Did you see this note? Were you there when Lucille put it here?" He was now holding the paper Emile had earlier.

I sat up at my chance to finally see what was on it. I took the paper eagerly to read Lucille's thin handwriting. I'd know it anywhere! The notes she writes on my music sheets, when we're practicing together, are always so much more elegant than mine. It's so easy to tell which parts she had scribbled in, even if we'd both written the piece. I loved to look at the handwritings dancing across our music pages. The two different styles mixed freely, and nothing made me happier except actually doing the song together...

But as I read it, I shook my head. Looking back up to Roul, I let him take it back and twittered nervously. All of their expressions were starting to make sense to me.

"So you didn't see her this morning?" He asked. I shook my head, not even realizing that she had no intention of showing up today. "Come on, Franœur, my man. My flea! Surely you know something, you follow her around like a lost puppy half the time!"

I twittered sadly, shrinking back. When I came in, Aunt Carlotta was sitting in Lucille's place doing something. I hadn't really paid any attention, because she comes in here a lot. Instead, I had gone to the mannequin that wore my costume, and once I had my stage-disguise on, I sat in my usual place and awaited my angel. I hadn't even noticed anything amiss about her absence at the time, and soon after, everyone else started to arrive and I've been so distracted that I didn't even realize it's half an hour past the time our performance usually begins.

"Great." Roul threw his arms up, tossing the paper in the air. Aunt Carlotta jumped to try and catch it, but it floated over her fingers and curved in the air back towards me. I reached out to catch it and stared at it once more.

All she says is that something's happened, and she won't be able to make it tonight.

"Did you see anyone else come this way or anything?" Aunt Carlotta asked, reaching to take the worn paper back. I handed it over willingly, shaking my head. "Oh, the poor dear. There's no sign of her here or upstairs. She doesn't usually run off like this."

I stood up then, surprising everyone. They'd stopped dashing about as much, so I assumed it was safe enough to turn sideways and wedge my way from the room.

"Franœur, where are you going?" Someone asked, and I chirped dutifully. If Lucille isn't here, then there's no reason for me to be. All of my friends here don't need my help to rummage through our dressing room, I don't know why they're doing that anyways, so I'm going to go find Lucille. She sleeps upstairs, so I slipped down the hall and around until I found the stairs. I don't usually go there, but once, she had brought me upstairs after a show and pulled me into a room about the size of the dressing room, but with less stuff. There was a large soft surface she called a bed, and a vanity far less cluttered than the one downstairs. She'd sat me down on the bed and went to the vanity, pulling out a small wooden case with a needle and threat, to 'stitch up' the tear I'd accidently made in my favorite hat. She'd grinned at me and gave it back, proclaiming it 'good as new', and I'd been so happy. So that room is a good room, where things are fixed.

However, when I pulled the door to it open, it was cold inside. Colder than I was expecting, at least. There is snow on the ground, and the fire places are all lit, but for some reason, the window in this room is open.

I went to shut it firstly, knowing well enough that it should be shut when it's cold like this. Only after the frigid breeze had stopped did the air start to get stagnant again and I picked up the familiar scent of her perfume.

It's stronger in here than downstairs, where the jumbled scents of all my other friends were mixed together. Their smells are each unique, and while they aren't as strong as the beautiful aroma of the flowers we get after each performance, I still know them well enough.

Walking over to the vanity and twittering sadly, to see she isn't here, I looked in the mirror. Still in my mask and hat, ready for a performance we apparently won't be doing tonight, I suddenly felt as if I shouldn't be here. I don't actually know much about the upstairs of the Rare Bird, but if Lucille isn't up here, then I don't really need to be here anyways. So instead, I went back downstairs and directly towards the back door, the very same door I first came in weeks ago.

Looking both directions, wondering if I could find that wonderful perfume in the air anywhere else, I chirped discontent. Where is Lucille?

For the briefest moment, I contemplated turning to walk down the alley and out onto the street, taking advantage of my already-prepared disguise to roam Paris in search of Lucille. However, I quickly dashed the idea and took to the rooftops. It's dusk, and I'm sure I stick out more than I would if I were wearing the black cloak and hat, but that was the least of my worries right now. I haven't the slightest idea where she might have gone, because I really don't know much about human lives outside of the Cabaret or Roul's delivery route yet. The only place I know where to go now is on the far side of the city, and I didn't want to waste any time getting there.

I landed on the roof of a building across the street from the lab. Dropping down and into the street, I started straight for the large glass building. As I entered, without knocking because I knew this place as my own home as much as the Cabaret is, the familiar and comforting smell of flora and warm humidity reached me. Despite the snow still falling outside, the Professor always seems to manage to keep it warm in here.

"Franœur." The Professor noticed me, before I did him. I stopped where I was and looked around, surprised to find him in the creepers, covered in grass stains. "To what do I owe this visit? You haven't returned here in quite some time."

I moved closer, letting out a distressed twitter and ducked my head.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, my friend, but I'm not sure what you're trying to say." He checked his watch and stood up proper. "Shouldn't you be with that lovely singer of yours right now, doing a number? It's Saturday, you should be very busy right now, eh?"

I gestured with my hands, chirping impatiently. That's why I'm here! Lucille is missing!

He put his fingers to his chin, pinching as if stroking a beard. For some reason, I felt as if he had one at one point. Nevertheless, I waited anxiously, wishing I had shed at least the coat and gloves so my arms were free.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, you wouldn't miss one of those shows for the world. Not unless something terrible happened." I nodded vigorously, hoping he could help. Even when I was just a tiny flea in the fur of a monkey, I knew of the strange things that happened in this building. Even the bugs of the area know to avoid flying near the lab shelves. I exist as I am now because of what this professor can do, despite the fact he was not directly responsible. Surely he can help me simply locate my angel.

"Have you run into any complications with your size? Health? Any side effects of the potion? I've only attempted to put a permanent edge to my potions recently, and while it doesn't seem to do anything other than what is intended, I've never put it on a living creature before. I did mix it with the growth serum, however, before I gave it to our mutual delivery friend." He pointed towards a large wooden stool he was now using as a table.

I shook my head vigorously and twittered excitedly. Oh, how I wish I could call upon my voice outside of song. I don't speak, nay, I cannot speak until the moment strikes me and the music is right. And now is not the time for a song!

I stopped immediately, an idea hitting me just as the professor shook his head in another denial of understanding my thoughts. Lucille nearly always understands me, even if she didn't have any context to my vocalizations. However, she is the one in question and I know exactly how to get my point across.

Motioning in the air with all for arms through my sleeves, though they twitched in my anxiety. I withdrew the lower set and reached out of my jacket, spinning expertly and swaying with a melody only I heard. I hear it clearly, and even as I danced, I watched the professor for the realization dawning on his face.

"It's about the little angel of yours, isn't it? Then, is she missing."

Sliding to a stop, I nodded and looked to him expectantly. Please, help me.

He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Franœur. I have not seen the lass since the two of you stopped in last week."

My shoulders slumped and I sighed, looking around dejectedly and wondering what to do now.

"My potions are for changing things, not finding. Has she run away, or has she been kidnapped? Or has she only gone off somewhere?"

It seems as if she's only gone off somewhere, but she hasn't told anyone. She intentionally left it out of the note. But where could she have gone?

"Think, Franœur." The professor seemed to have finally caught on and noticed I assume it's the third option. "Could she have said anything to you? It doesn't seem likely to me that she would have disappeared without any warning whatsoever. Try to think, Franœur."

I looked away, wondering if she had mentioned anything to me. But, I haven't seen her since last night. She had gone upstairs, as she always does long after the cabaret showing and I stay in the dressing room. Sometimes I leave to visit with Emile or Roul, and I've fallen asleep in any multitude of places while visiting everyone, but I usually sleep in our dressing room when nowhere else catches my fancy. She ascends the stairs, and that's all I see of her until the next day. And I haven't seen her at all today.

But she did seem distressed last night. I hadn't understood what about, because she hadn't wanted to talk about it. It hadn't mattered, because playing what we'd written so far on my guitar cheered her up far more than talking about it. Maybe this has to do with that? She'd... I think she'd mentioned Maynott's name, which is when I started to play our song on the guitar. It's the second one we've written together.

I chirped adieu to the professor before leaping towards the doors and opening them civil-like. But as soon as I was outside, I lept upwards and out, towards where they held Maynott. We had visited him once before, and it was not a trip I had enjoyed. The man scares me, despite the fact he no longer has the golden metal weapon, nor the power to attack me again at all. But if for whatever reason Lucille had come here, she shouldn't be alone.

When I landed in front of the large building we had gone to talk about how Maynott had 'turned rogue'- as Roul had put it -I dropped down to the street once more the instant no one was watching. I'm not really supposed to go out in public alone, but that's one of the reasons I kept my stage costume on. When I entered the building, I got nervous looks and looks of recognition. I nodded to each one, looking around for my angel.

After a few moments, one of the men that had given me a look of recognition nervously approached me. I know that my size intimidates everyone, even if they aren't calling me a monster. Well, everyone except my friends.

"Monsieur Franœur?" I looked down at him expectantly, chittering lightly. To everyone that doesn't know what I am, Lucille asked me to try and be silent so they suspect nothing. "Are you here with Mademoiselle Lucille?"

I nodded eagerly, catching on to the fact she's here. I've found her!

"I didn't know she was expecting company... ah, right this way." He bowed his head and started towards one of the doorways behind the counters. I followed obediently, looking around as we went through for any signs of my angel. Her beautiful white dress and wings, her brown hair, her pleasing perfume. Despite the fact this man had told me she's here, I was starting to worry I'd fallen into another dead end! Where is she?

Wait. I closed my eyes and sniffed the air again, finally catching faint wind of her smell. Like the weight of my seven foot body releasing as I shrank down to match the size of my natural flea-sized energy that day upon the Eiffel Tower, I felt renewed and energized.

"Here she is." The police officer opened a door for me to peer into. Inside, there were two familiar people sitting at a small table by candle light. They both had plates of food, and they both stared up at us in surprise.

Maynott's face twisted into the same hate he'd had when he'd tried to attack me, but Lucille's face filled with disappointment. She stood up to meet me as I rushed inside.

"Franœur, what are you doing here? I told you all I would return tonight." She insisted, pushing at me to leave.

"Yes, I'd like to know what that is doing here too." Maynott sneered, and the door behind me shut as the policeman left.

I ignored the monster and chittered to my angel worriedly. What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here with him alone! I withdrew two of my arms once more, reaching out with them to check her warmth. I could practically hear her heart racing, and I wanted to know if she's alright.

She pulled my hands down from her face, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Franœur. It is only my worry. I didn't want you to come."

I gave the monster in the room a distrustful look and scooted closer to Lucille, hoping to pull her away. She disregarded my advance and stepped back toward the table to sit down once more.

"Franœur, it is nothing. You don't have to worry. The police have decided that he has done too much damage to this city, and he may no longer be in it. They are transferring him to London, where he will serve out his sentence. And when he is free, he still may not return. So they gave him one request, for his last night in Paris." She gestured to the table.

I crept closer, shooting nervous looks between the two of them.

"I wanted to hear my dear angel sing one last time." He gave me a smile that I did not like. And I did not like his words either. She is not your angel, you are dangerous for her! You held her neck in one hand! You threw her over the railing! She is not your angel!

"Franœur, be calm." Lucille reached out to touch my arm and I realized I was chittering angrily at him.

"Yes, little flea. Be calm." Maynott leered.

"And you, stop patronizing Franœur." She turned an angry tone towards the man in striped clothing. "You have no right to say anything to him, after what you did." He has no right to even look at you, Lucille, after what he did.

"Then I suppose I have no right to ask him to leave?" He questioned. "We were in the middle of dinner, and he rudely interrupts."

"No, you don't." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I didn't want anyone to know I was here, because I didn't want them to object. But I wanted to see you off, and make sure you never returned."

"How sweet of you, my angel." He gave her that smile that bristled me. He reached out to take her angry fist that was slammed down on the table, but I didn't want him to touch her. I reached out quickly to take it instead, pulling her back and glaring at him.

"Franœur, release me." She insisted, and I did that immediately, lowering my head. "I didn't want you here because I didn't want you to worry. And I also didn't want him to try and hurt you again." She sighed. "But as long as you are here, I will not give him the satisfaction of watching you leave. You may stay, but be calm."

I flinched back at her reprimand, feeling as if something is off with her. But I can't exactly place it.

"That's it, my dear. Let us return to our supper." Maynott 'agreed', now completely ignoring me as he picked up the knife and fork in front of him. I eyed the sharp metal distrustfully, but stayed against the wall where Lucille had pointed me towards.

"I did not come here for food, Maynott. I came here to sing, and that's all." She glared at him.

"I had the policemen bring all of this food, and you won't even finish it? Do you have any idea what I went through to set this up?"

"I don't care." She turned her head away. "I want to leave this place, so I will sing and be gone."

"Very well." He sighed, setting the silverware down and leaning back in his chair to watch her stand.

I automatically stood upright and walked closer, wondering excitedly which song she wanted to do today. Our location didn't matter now, if we still get to sing tonight.

"No, Franœur." She put a hand up to stop me. "Wait for me by the door." She turned to look at me so Maynott couldn't see her face. She gave me a distressed look and nodded to the door. "Please."

I chirped in agreement, and disappointment. I backed to stand by the door and sank down to a familiar crouch. She has not shown so much negative face-languages towards me since we first met. And even then, it was only a moment before she fled. I do not want her to be upset with me. That's the last thing I want!

As she backed away from the table and tucked her hair behind her ear, the way she does when she's thinking. She stopped and eyed Maynott with disapproval, before looking away and sighing.

Then, she started a familiar routine. We've only done this song a few times, for it isn't one of her favorites to sing, but I know all of our songs by heart. As her voice threaded the lyrics and she started to dance, my muscles twitched in want. From my legs, yearning to dance, to my vocal cords yearning to form the words they so stubbornly refused me any other time. I was practically quaking with want, but she told me to wait here. I will not join her. I will wait until tomorrow, for our next performance to twirl with her and dance.

As she started to bring it to a close, I remembered where we were once more. I was so transfixed watching her, willing myself not to get up and join her, that I'd completely forgotten about Maynott's presence. But he knew the song too, and as it came to a close, he began to clap.

"Bravo, bravo." He grinned that grin I don't like at her. "Encore!"

"You only get one." She sneered, completely dropping the pleasant and light attitude she held during performance. Her quick change even startled me.

"My dear, you have a gift. It would be a shame to never see it again. Will you visit me in London?"

"No, I would rather _die_." She hissed. I stood up right in concern, chirping in objection. But they both ignored me.

"That would be such a waste of beauty and talent." He mused.

"You didn't seem to think so back on the Eiffel Tower." She sneered, reaching to take her jacket from the back of the chair. "Enjoy the rest of your life, Monsieur Maynott." She turned on her heel gracefully and strode straight towards me. No, not me. The door. I quickly opened it for her, and followed her out in stride.

Once it was shut, the waiting policeman went to lock it and Lucille lead me straight around the corner, to the deserted hallway there. Then, her steps faltered and she leaned against the wall, lowering her head into her hands.

I crouched and chirped lightly, reaching out to her in concern.

But as I touched her shoulder, she looked up quickly and gave me another exasperated look. "Franœur, your arms!" She objected, pulling away. She looked around to see if there was anyone else in the hall. I quickly withdrew my arms back into the jacket, ducking my head again. "I hope that policeman didn't notice. You should be more careful."

I avoided her gaze, submitting to the reprimand. I know. I just hadn't thought of it, because I'm too concerned about you. You look distressed, and I worry over that more than keeping hidden. But just now, it made me realize what's off about her. She withdraws and shakes her head every time I touch her. Which confuses me, because I've lifted her up before, and held her hand, and we've danced together so many times like that. And she simply glows then, not faltering at all as she sings. She always glows when she sings.

"Oh, look at your cloths! They're a mess. Did you come all the way in that? Hmmm, white always collects dirt like that. We'll have to wash it when we return. Come on, Franœur. Let us leave this place." She insisted, standing tall again and leading the way down the hall.

I followed her out, dejected but happy she's alright. Instead of leaping back toward the Cabaret in a matter of seconds, I walked with her one step behind the entire way. It's dark out now, and the last thing I wanted was to leave her alone again.

When finally we returned, everyone that had been in our dressing room was out in the main entrance, talking about calling the police. But the moment we walked in, they were flocking around us, hugging her and asking where she'd gone. When they thanked me for finding her, asking me where I'd found her, I just chirped and looked to her. If she wants to keep it secret, then I cannot say anything of it.

"It is nothing." She insisted to them all. "An old friend of mine needed some help, so I went to her. From the time I spent at the Opera house."

"You were only there for a month, ten years ago! What sort of friend could you have possibly made there that would ask you for help so many years later?" Aunt Carlotta asked.

"I am the only one she knew in the area. I am sorry for not giving any more notice." She smiled to them all. "I will make it up to you. A free show, for everyone that expected one tonight. I will not expect any pay for it."

"You don't need to do that." Aunt Carlotta insisted. "I gave them all vouchers for a free bottle of champagne the next time they came."

"Did everything go alright, then?" Emile asked, stepping up. "Your friend, are they alright?"

"Oh, yes. Everything was sorted out and she's leaving the city again already." Lucille brushed off, a terrible liar. Well, to me her body language reeked of her lie, but everyone else seemed to believe it. I shifted nervously, just knowing one of them is going to catch on.

Roul pushed past to the front, taking both of her shoulders and giving her a stern look. "Don't scare us like that again, Lucille. You didn't say anything about where you'd gone in the note, we thought you'd been kidnapped."

I took a step around, watching curiously. Tilting my head, I watched his hands on her shoulders, where she didn't seem bothered at all by the contact. She didn't pull away, at least.

"I'm sorry, Roul. I was in a hurry." She smiled. "But I will try to be more descriptive the next time an emergency arises." She started to walk away. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I need to take a minute to wind down."

I followed her out of the room and down the halls that lead to the performers' dressing rooms. There were six other rooms in this hall, one of which was Aunt Carlotta's office. Three of the others were filled with other singers, none of which were as beautiful or as requested as my angel- for she dances and sings with me, not Maynott -and the final two were reserved for the band. While we take evening and night shows on the weekend and special occasions, the matinee shows and the evening shows the rest of the week are done by the other performers. I've met them, and none of them dance like Lucille does. None of them have her beautiful voice either.

She gave me a weary look as I shut our dressing room door. "I'm not going to listen to you tell me off for going there. And I'm not going to apologize either."

I chittered and ducked my head, walking towards the love seat.

"No, no, no. Don't sit down yet." She insisted. I didn't. "You're going to have to take all of that off so we can wash it. I don't want that mud getting onto the love seat. Come on." She insisted, walking towards me. I bent down cautiously, not sure what's going on with her. I am unsure on how to act with her, because she skirts away from me every time I extend a hand, and she hasn't once yet smiled to me. She's in a bad mood, and the smiles out there were fake. Though, I guess I'd rather have no smile than a fake one.

She took off my hat and set it on the mannequin's head, before returning to untie my mask. I gave a smile and sighed, relishing the strong scent of her perfume. It isn't vague or diluted by time, it's fresh and thus very near. She is no longer lost.

"After everything he'd tried to do to hurt you, I was terrified he'd try something again when you walked in." She mused, turning her back on me to lay the mask on her vanity. "The police came by this last night, asking me to sing for him as his last request. I agreed to go, because I knew that if I refused, Maynott would stop at nothing to cause trouble for us again. I didn't want to drag anyone else into this, and I knew he wouldn't hurt me." She shrugged and straightened up again. She was looking at herself in the mirror, then turned to me. I smiled at her cheerfully. She smiled back, which made mine even bigger.

"Oh, Franœur." She sat down at the vanity and put her face in her hands. "I just knew he'd think you'd come with me. I just knew he'd try to hurt you again. I'm so happy everything turned out alright."

I chittered, coming up behind her and watching her in the mirror.

She was silent for a minute, before sighing and standing up. "I've got to change. Here, you can put this on again if you'd like. I will take your suit down for the staff to wash when we are done here." She insisted, patting the dark jacket I had worn when we first met. It, the red scarf and the matching hat stayed on yet another mannequin near her changing wall. As she walked past it, she took another dress with her towards the wall.

I gave the vanity another smile, glad to know she isn't still mad at me. Nevertheless, I obeyed her instructions and changed out of the stage costume. When they were laid neatly on the floor on the shoe tile, so they wouldn't get mud on the carpet, I sat on the love seat and waited for her to return.

When she did, she looked exhausted and drained. Without even looking around, she practically fell into the seat beside me and leaned against my side.

"Merci, Franœur. That man intimidates me, and he was much more behaved once you arrived. I'm not sure what I would do without you." She sighed, closing her eyes.

I watched her curiously, but blatantly confused. She and I move together on the stage, and neither of us think anything of it when I touch her there. But earlier she had ducked and dodged every time I'd touched her. Now, she leans into me as if we were dancing while sitting still.

"Hmm. It's finally over, Franœur. He's out of our hair, and he won't be bothering us anymore." She mused. "But I am tired. I need to finish getting ready." She insisted, sitting up again.

But, I didn't want her to go yet. When she'd leaned against me, that told me with her body language that she missed me like I missed her. That she was not angry with me, and also that she was completely drained from her visit with Maynott. I wanted to keep her company, I don't want her to be alone for the night yet! It's still rather early, but I knew she was probably going to ascend those stairs and not return until morning.

She didn't get up from the sofa yet, but instead raised her arms to the back of her head, feeling for all the pins that held her hair together so perfectly. But her eyes were drooping and her arms shook.

I hesitated, not sure which words from her body language to believe. But I decided to believe the ones that told me she was not angry with me and not afraid of my touch. So I shifted and started to undo her hair myself. I seen her smile as she let her hands fall down to her lap.

"Merci, Franœur."

I chirped in delight, setting all the pins in a pile on the arm of the sofa on her other side. Once I had finished, I quickly withdrew my four arms and watched her curiously. She didn't withdraw that time.

"I don't know what I would do without you." She gave me a large smile again and I twittered in happiness. That's all I want. I don't even try to follow everything else that's just too complicated. All I know is that she had gone to visit Maynott, and he had caused her distress. She had recoiled from my touch then, but now she is smiling and leaning into my touch like our happiest days dancing.

"Now remember, you especially can't be seen while you're wearing this. Alright?" She insisted, standing up. "I will see you in the morning." She gave me a wink and walked out.

I sat there for a few minutes after she'd gone. I could feel my own heart racing like hers had back in the room with Maynott. But, I am not afraid as she had been. I twittered to myself, standing up and going to sit at the piano. Everything is fine again, and I no longer worry about anything. I don't worry about why she is upset with me, or where she had gone, or why all of my friends were in this small room at once. I don't worry about anything.

* * *

It's just a one-shot, but I've got a few more. I really hope you guys will tell me what you think, and about what could be improved/what should be repeated.

Thanks for reading, please review!


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